


Lickety Split

by CravenWyvern



Series: DS Extras [91]
Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:40:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27285070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CravenWyvern/pseuds/CravenWyvern
Relationships: Maxwell/Wilson (Don't Starve)
Series: DS Extras [91]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/688443
Kudos: 44





	Lickety Split

There wasn't any pain, in a bite. A simple nip, a faint pinch, and then Wilson had to settle back in his chair and let his hands still, wait it out.

A part of him despised the stillness it gave him, the numb weakness that overtook his limbs and made him stop his work. Some of it was just so delicate, fiddling with the fine details of wiring and machine build, and getting distracted like this either made his work take longer or made him sloppy.

Try telling Maxwell that and he'd get a muttered comment on how little Wilson had to give for the resources he required for his work. It was rather frustrating, but the payment of getting to use all that the old vampire had accumulated over the centuries far outweighed the occasional pause for a brief bloodletting.

Cold cruel talons trailed from his shoulders, dragged on his labcoat but did not tear, before one rose up to tangle in his hair. Wilson grit his jaw but followed through anyway, leaned his head to the side to expose his neck a bit more, and the deep hum of satisfaction came up along with a warm, foul smelling exhale of breath, hot fresh blood stained against the teeth, the fangs brushing his skin, before they dipped down once more. Back into the first bite, he suspected; Maxwell wasn't much of a messy eater.

The faint hints of discomfort, and the usual dizziness, vague nausea, came up as Wilson let his eyes close, goggles pushed up as wandering talons trailed through his greasy hair, curled to cup lukewarm palms to his cheek and hold him up as he started to slump to the side. The numbness only increased the more blood he lost; once upon a time he'd have been more worried on this whole deal, of how far too far really was.

Experience told him that there wasn't any deep hunger driving this session; the vampire touched him too gently, fragile talons wandering in slow patterns and that faint slimy feel of a tongue, a little too much caution against the new wound. A faint flush of heat, a flash that almost made him shiver, but then the numb static took it back and Wilson just heaved a sigh, let himself relax near fully as the old creature had the freedom to his blood.

Maxwell told him once that the experience could be more "enjoyable", as he so put it, if Wilson ever felt up to it. That there was more than just the numbness, whispered against his skin and almost threatening to bite; one could be ravished under those foul fangs and they'd not even notice, too engulfed by pleasures a mortal mind could hardly think up or withstand.

Obviously the scientist in him couldn't just let up an interesting opportunity, though it only took a few times before he decided to forgo the option. Too many times his memory failed him and only the dizzy foggy mornings were all he had of the experience, held close by in the grip of a possessive, far too full of blood vampire and aching in new ways he'd have never thought he'd feel. Whether they were good nights or not was unimportant; Wilson couldn't remember enough to jot anything down, and his body was a little too under the weather afterwards to get anything meaningful done anyhow. 

If something was getting in the way of his projects, then it was something that wasn't worth the effort. 

The old vampire seemed understandably offended, but had not turned Wilson out into the night after the idea was rejected.

Something he had been expecting, hell he had even started packing right before, but all Maxwell had done was huff a few snide remarks, hide away for a few days in his gloomy crumbling tower that loomed over the rest of the mansion like some ugly cloud of foreboding, and finally slithered out to greet him at dinner and ask for a quick bite.

At least he asked, Wilson reminded himself, letting himself be a bit manhandled as the old vampire curled his talons all about him protectively, or more like possessively. If he hadn't been seated Maxwell would have tugged him close, back to that silent cold chest, and even like this one of those taloned hands had snuck up to the side of his jaw, pressed just so as to lay against his pulse.

Wilson breathed slow, focused and steady; a faster heart rate caused him to bleed longer, and a faster pulse made the vampire more inclined to cling to him and feed for far longer than he usually liked.

His fingertips were beyond numb now, and internally he cursed that; he was wiring up the delicate connections of some batteries, and this was going to set him back a few hours, or at least until he got feeling back into his hands. Those claws continued to hold him, and every once in awhile a damp cold swipe brushed against his throat, sensitivity making him shiver and earn another rumble of satisfaction.

Maxwell wasn't a messy feeder, but he seemed to take some sort of enjoyment with letting Wilsons blood flow down his neck; none stained his lab coats collar, but that cold slithering tongue lapping against his skin wasn't much of a comforter. He could practically feel that crooked little smile now, brushed against his skin as those teeth sank in a little deeper, discomfort but no pain, and Wilson just let out a small sigh and waited.

Eventually Maxwell seemed to have his fill, a brief squeeze and last firm brushing of claws against his body, and when those fangs slide away and he could feel humid heated breath exhaled against his skin Wilson shuddered with disgust, knowing the scent of his own blood far more intimately than any one person should ever know. There was a brief pressure, warming full lips to his throat and against the numb wound, lapping up any leftover traces before lapsing into a softer kiss, and Wilson let it play out a few extra moments as he raised up his hands, started to stretch feeling back into his numb fingers.

Maxwell was thankfully feeling rather charitable tonight, or perhaps clingy to his personal blood bank, and helped him sit up after a few moments of struggle. The chair helped, but his balance was all but gone and the light headedness wasn't going to fade with how much blood he's given up. He was far colder now too, and even though it was faint the heat radiating off the old vampire was enough for him to lean into the helping hand he was offered, humming in mild answer to the aid.

"You finished then?"

Those thin fragile talons crawled about his shoulders, squeezed, before there was a bit of adjustment and Wilson could feel Maxwell lean over him, the poke of that hollow jutting chin atop his head and then those talons trailing to catch to his numb fingers, curl together for a brief moment and interrupting him even more so.

"I suppose for now, pal. Perhaps I will feel a bit peckish in a few more hours, hmm?" There was a certain level of playfulness in that tone, a verbal small smile, and Wilson couldn't shake his head, what with the weight of being leaned upon and his lingering weakness, but he did heave an exasperated sigh.

"I'd hope not; this wiring will take longer than I planned, and it must be finished before tomorrow morning." He didn't need to expand more on that, of how there was quite a lot that must be finished by tomorrow, of the full moons grace deadline, how he must be ready to capture and then redirect, harness the energies into use, and he certain didn't need to go into detail with the old vampire on how important all this was in the first place. 

Maxwell needed this just as much, perhaps even more than Wilson, and a setback on Wilsons side was a severe detriment to the vampire's plans. 

Creating a portal that would connect mortal to immortal on some metaphysical way was a difficult endeavor; making it double sided even more so. Wilson didn't ask why the old vampire wanted it to work both ways, though he had his thoughts.

As he's heard, time and again through vague half small talk and old rising memories, shared while either in bed or even in the feeding throes of deep, near manic hunger, immortality has never once been a thing of freedom. It wasn't Wilson's business, what the vampire would decide to do once this was finished; all Wilson was to do was build the machine and offer up his blood freely.

"Hm, then I suppose I shall have to wait." There wasn't any bite to his words, and after a brief moment one of those taloned hands, tangled with his own and softly, gently helping rub feeling back to his numb fingers, urged his hand up, raised and pulled back. "I certainly wouldn't want to distract you, pal, not at all."

Lips pressed to his knuckles, a slight squeeze as those claws tightened, and there was a brief brush of fangs against the thin skin of his hands but Maxwell did not bite, only kissed soft and slow, a gentle touch that drove away the last of the numb static from his fingertips.

Wilson allowed it, even with those teasing words; as if he wasn't already so distracted! Still, the semi intimate contact was nice, and Maxwell was warm against him now, having taken his blood and ingested it for his own use.

Vampiric biology was an intriguing field of study, as Wilson has been learning. Jotting down notes in between his intensive work hours has taken much of his time, and every once in awhile Maxwell would find some paper or other and burst out in those hissing wheezy laughs of his, only a faint hint of deep timbre that has gone soft in age, finding Wilsons notes to be amusing. 

The old vampire seemed to find it entertaining, to keep himself cryptic and unknown, and between the two of them it's become a game; Wilson sought out the answers to his questions, and Maxwell curbed and distracted and white lied his way through those prodding words, smiling wickedly all the while.

For all the difficulty Wilson has been making progress. Knowing that there were nests out there, that Maxwell himself used to house one such brood before it came apart due to internal mutiny, made the world ever more intriguing. 

Once this was all finished up perhaps Wilson would even make an attempt to find the one known as Charlie, ask her more pointed questions that Maxwell seemed so adamant in not answering. He wanted to learn more, and that always required surrounding oneself in content that should give answers.

He rolled his eyes as that kiss became several, went across his hand and dotted his wrist, fangs brushing the soft veins, then up his arm as far as could be allowed, before Maxwell finally seemed to have enough with the physical contact and let him go, stepping back and away. The air smelled of his blood now, cloying and thick and hot iron, and Wilson adjusted his goggles, wiggled them back on and sized the lenses as he carefully scooted forward, eyes back down to the set of unwired batteries before him. The numbness was gone from his fingertips, only a hint of weighted down weakness left atop his shoulders, before it faded just as quickly.

He wouldn't be able to hear Maxwell leave, not with those silent vampiric footsteps, and instead preemptively called back behind his shoulder as he started to fiddle with the wiring and set them right once again.

"I should be done by midnight, if you wish to know. A few last minute preparations would be in order, and then the rest adjusted to the moons level tomorrow evening; I shall have free time before then."

He was throwing the old vampire a bone, as small as it was, and Maxwell snapped it up without a hesitant thought.

"Of course, of course; a few hours and already the gentleman genius is near finished." 

Wilson did not mention the months spent in preparing all this, but he did feel the rustle of warm air against his neck for a brief moment, the ghosting touch of talons to his shoulders that paused his own hands. 

"Should you be finished before dawn, my dear scientist, my door will be open to you." Maxwell hummed to his ear, then drew back and was gone the next moment; if Wilson raised his head and had a look around he knew he'd not see hide nor hair of the old vampires presence.

It made him shake his head, fight the urge to roll his eyes once more, and instead focus his mind on the task on hand and nothing else, teasing promises and innuendos and whatnot withstanding.

A small smile did cross his face, though, and it didn't leave for quite a while afterwards.


End file.
